The shadows by which we recognise the light
by kamefootninja
Summary: A long time ago an Angel extended a wing to a demon in a garden. Six thousand years later, the gesture is finally returned. Times have changed, the wing is an umbrella, and the garden is a park, but the sentiment is there. Aziraphale is having an internal crisis, but luckily he has a friend to help him through it.


Aziraphale had been having a bad day. A bad week if he was being honest. Averting the apocalypse should have been a joyous celebration, and indeed it was for the first couple of days. But now the reality of losing his side was setting in. He was still and Angel, but was he really still a creature of divinity? Cast out of heaven, but without falling, stuck in limbo with humanity and no definitive direction in his life anymore. He'd still do good things, and help humanity in anyway he could.

It had been a nice day, but like, even all nice days in London, the rain clouds had been slowly appearing over head, and before long the angel felt the soft padding of rain against his jacket. He considered leaving for his bookshop, instead of staying sat on a park bench in the rain, but he couldn't find it in himself to move right now, he still had a lot of thinking to do.

Looking up at the storm clouds, he closed his eyes and thought back on everything that had happened, everything Crowley had filled him in on about heavens attempted destruction of him.

It took a while before he realised that the cool rain was no longer splashing on his face. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the dark clouds moving away, but all he saw was blackness. Blinking in confusion he realised that it was a jet black umbrella, and he followed the handle down the arm holding it and then up at a very familiar sight.

"Crowley? What are you..."

"A long time ago, someone who was supposed to be my enemy, offered me shelter from the rain. I figured it was about time I returned the favour." Crowley's hair was flattened by the rain, but his face was one of concern rather than any discomfort. He'd been standing there awhile, and the umbrella was only shielding the angel.

"And you've never forgotten it." Despite his rather downtrodden mood, Aziraphale couldn't help the affectionate smile for such a sweet gesture. He reached up to take the umbrella, patting the bench next to him, which miraculously dried in a large patch around his hand, offering his friend to sit beside him.

Crowley didn't hesitate much before rounding the bench and joining the Angel. "Maybe some company would be good for both of us." He muttered, taking the time to flick the hair from his face, before reaching up and smoothing it to the side, possibly a little too vain to leave it untidy.

Aziraphale shook his head in amusement. "And just when I think you must have run out of hairstyles." The rain had made the demons hair look greased and slicked back, not very modern or stylish in this day and age, but a few decades ago he could have definitely pulled it off if he'd wanted to.

It took a second before Crowley caught onto the joke and joined in the laughter, deciding his hair was a lost cause. He could miracle it dry, but really why bother, it didn't get on his nerves too much, and now that Aziraphale had called him. out, he didn't mind so much. "Trust me, humans come up with some very interesting things to do with their hair."

"I've no doubt." How did Crowley do that. Aziraphale had been feeling low, and doubting himself, and yet he managed to laugh for a moment like all was normal in the world for him. But the doubts were still there, and his eyes automatically drifted upwards for a brief moment.

"Penny for your Thoughts? Seems like a lot going on in your head right now." Crowley didn't expect Aziraphale to start pouring out his heart, but he gave him that option, making sure the angel knew that he had a friendly ear if he needed to get things off his chest. They'd seen and spoken to each other a few times since the apocalypse, but none of them had opened up to how deeply they felt the loss of their sides. Aziraphale wasn't even sure if Crowley felt such a loss.

"Just…. Been thinking about everything… heaven." Aziraphale admitted, not elaborating any further. With a little sigh he continued on a slightly different, but not unrelated topic. "They haven't contacted me since… what about your Side?"

"Not my side anymore. But, no. Nothing on my end either. Seems we've truly scared them off for now." Crowley didn't seem as worried about it as Aziraphale, but it was clear that he'd given it a lot of thought in their time apart as well.

"Seems like it." Aziraphale agreed, but his voice didn't have the same confidence as Crowley's. He'd seen how the angels could be, they weren't ineffable nice or good, they could be petty and threatening. And he had no doubt that they hadn't seen the last of them.

"You're worried." It wasn't a question it was a statement, and before the angel could protest, the demon lifted a hand to stop him. "You always look up, to them, when you're nervous, or thinking things you shouldn't." Jerking his head upwards, to make it clear he was referring to heaven, and the angels that inhabited it.

"It's it that obvious?" Aziraphale was aware that he turned to the heavens in his times of need, but not that he'd done it publicly enough for it to be noticeable. It had been a small comfort when he was alone, knowing that his people were up there looking down on humanity with love and good intentions. And a big worry when he'd be meeting with Crowley, scared they would be looking down and see them together. Now it was an old habit, one he wasn't sure if he should break or not.

"Probably not. But after six thousand years, you get used to it." Crowley pointed out, folding his arms across his chest, possibly for warmth since the temperature had turned as quickly as the weather.

"You never, uh, look down though." Aziraphale would have noticed if Crowley had looked to hell for reassurance, not that he'd expect anyone to be reassuring down there, but it was the direct parallel. "Not that I think you'd get anything by looking to hell. But, is there anything you turn to? When you're feeling...lost?" Because lost was how Aziraphale felt right now. He was still an angel, but one who had been forsaken by heaven, and he didn't have people to turn to any more. He only had Crowley.

"Nah, honestly I'd rather not think about them much. Not like they ever cared what I was doing, as long as I gave them good reports." Crowley shrugged, scratching at the mark on the side of his face. It was an automatic thing when he felt a bit insecure, especially about what he was. This time it was his turn to look upwards, like he was trying to see past the umbrella up into the clouds. "Sometimes I look up too."

Aziraphale couldn't hide his surprise, temporarily pulled out of his own melancholy thoughts to turn his completely attention to the demon besides him. Why would he turn to heaven? Crowley wasn't your average demon, but he'd made no mistake how he felt about the 'other side' and their ways. "But…"

"Not heaven, Angel. I look a bit higher than that." Crowley's voice was clearly amused with the little misunderstanding. Honestly he wasn't surprised is friend had never caught on, but the idea of him taking anything positive from heaven was laughable. "Don't look so surprised. I was an angel once. Remember?"

"Yes, but that was a _long_ time ago." The irony of the reversed exchange wasn't lost on either of them. Almost the exact words spoken in the bandstand, an exchange neither of them were keen on remembering. "Even after everything that's happened?" Somehow Crowley had faith in god, possibly had this whole time and never said anything about it. "But you question the almighty all the time."

"Exactly. I ask questions, that what I do. Because honestly, sometimes I _do_ wonder what they are doing up there. Someone's got to pull them up on things when it seems like they're going to far, not that they'll listen. But they like to test us, sometimes to destruction, but they're always there." Crowley's eyes came back down to his friend, a peaceful but contemplating look on their face.

"You see, Angel. There's something that everyone else is forgetting. The great big, bright pink elephant in the room." Crowley has a little smile on his face, not smug, but like he knew a secret that no one else had worked out yet. "God likes to play games."

"That's hardly a secret Crowley. Armageddon was proof of that. Both sides wanting a war and then standing down because no one knows what god is playing at." Aziraphale tried to follow the demons reasoning, but it still felt like there was something that he was missing. Crowley still had that little secret smile on his face, even as he brought his head down to turn and look directly at the angel.

"Angels and Demons. Demons supposedly go against God's design, and angels do the Lord's work." He paused, seeming to check if Aziraphale had caught on yet. "You have to step back from both sides to see the big picture. And. What is is that you're always Saying? Have love for all of god's creatures?"

The angels brows knitted together, trying to piece together some sort of divine epiphany in the seemingly out of characteristic words from his demon friend. And then the words started to sink in and he laughed slightly when the meaning started to form in his mind. "it's obvious when you put it like that, isn't it?" The smile that grew on Crowley's face told Aziraphale that he had hit the nail right on the head. "God created _everything_, all things and all places. She created Heaven and angels. Then created hell so that the fallen had somewhere to call their own. That's why they fall, instead of being destroyed."

"Black and white, day and night. _Can't_ have one without the other." Crowley grinned, unfolding his arms to relax more casually on the bench. " 'Evil' is just as much gods work as 'goodness' is. But somehow both sides have forgotten that. Demons seem to think they are going against god, and from what I've seen the angels do too."

"Except you've known that all along haven't you? That's why you've _always_ insisted on being on 'our side'?" Aziraphale couldn't believe that he, and all of heaven and hell had been this blind. It really was the elephant in the room, so obvious when you stepped back and thought about it without prejudices.

"Not the whole time. Though the thing with the ark and the crucifixion helped tip me off. God tests us, sometimes to destruction, but only he knows what he's doing. He just won't tell anyone the rules to his game."

"It _is_ a game isn't it?" Aziraphale's voice was soft, like he'd finally latched onto that epiphany that he'd been reaching for earlier. It all made sense when you simplify the situation. "Not a plan, or some grand design. It's pieces, in a game that we know nothing about."

"Both sides assume that it's their job to wipe the other out. The fallen need revenge for being cast out, and the angels want to clean up their fallen foes. Oldest story there is. Good versus Evil. And in the meantime humanity learns to make choices. Learns from both sides until they make their own minds up somewhere in the middle." Crowley seemed oddly seren, like he was stating facts about something he was very fond of. "Very clever humans. Much cleverer than us sometimes. Freewill and imagination. One for God's finest creations if you ask me."

"You really have that much faith in the Lord." Aziraphale's smile softened. This was a side to Crowley he'd never seen before. He'd seen the demon upset, angry, deliriously happy but never as a man of faith. Not in hell, and certainly not in heaven. He believed in Humanity.

"Not something you expect for a demon is it?" There was the familiar smirk, the one that showed he was still teasing and up for mischief. That he was still the same old demon that Aziraphale had been 'thwarting' all these years.

"Are we still an angel and a demon though?" Aziraphale asked. Somehow, a lot of the worries he'd had earlier didn't seem as bad. The question he'd been dreading to ask, didn't completely fill him with dread anymore.

"I suppose so. At least as far as holy water and hell fire are concerned at least. Doesn't really matter apart from that anymore." Crowley reasoned, sticking his hand out in front of him to check the weather. "Rain's stopped." He pointed out, reaching up to put the umbrella down.

Aziraphale smiled, leaning the umbrella against the bench while they sat back, looking over the pond in St. James Park. It really had become one of their favorite places, so it was no surprise really that Crowley had found him there when he thought he had needed some space that day. "Yes. Seems things are brightening up at last."


End file.
